By Don Bendell
From the writer of Strongheart comes an all new Western adventure...
ONE CRAVES BLOOD...
His identify is We Wiyake, which means "Blood Feather." He stalks the mountains and fields, trying to find prey in either the local international and the white international. Killing is the only factor that makes him think alive. yet he does greater than simply kill—he eats his victims' hearts and leaves a blood-soaked feather on their faces.
...THE different JUSTICE.
The in simple terms one who can song Blood Feather is Joshua Strongheart, a guy who was once a mentor to 1 of the monster's sufferers. yet Blood Feather won't be taken easily—he can see that Strongheart is his final prey. To eat his middle could provide him extra strength than ever. fortunately, killing a guy like Joshua Strongheart isn't any effortless task...
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Extra resources for Blood Feather
There’s been little enough laughter in this village since winter came. Now even the gleeman’s cloak brings a laugh. ” “Say what you will,” Cenn spoke up suddenly. “I still say it’s a foolish waste of money. ” 14 An Empty Road “So there are fireworks,” Mat said, but Cenn went right on. “They should have been here a month ago with the first peddler of the year, but there hasn’t been a peddler, has there? If he doesn’t come by tomorrow, what are we going to do with them? Hold another Festival just to set them off?
It was the same on all sides. ” That was the way of most Two Rivers people. People who had to watch the hail beat their crops or the wolves take their lambs, and start over, no matter how many years it happened, did not give up easily. Most of those who did were long since gone. Tam would not have stopped for Wit Congar if the man had not come out 6 An Empty Road into the street so they had to halt or let Bela run over him. The Congars – and the Coplins; the two families were so intermarried no one really knew where one family let off and the other began – were known from Watch Hill to Deven Ride, and maybe as far as Taren Ferry, as complainers and troublemakers.
A slender woman, with her thick braid of graying hair pulled over one shoulder, Mistress al’Vere smiled in a motherly fashion that took in both of them. “There is more of this in the kitchen, if you two are hungry, and I never knew boys your age who weren’t. Or any other age, for that matter. ” She was one of the few married women in the area who never tried to play matchmaker with Tam. Toward Rand her motherliness extended to warm smiles and a quick snack whenever he came by the inn, but she did as much for every young man in the area.